


Obvious

by thingswithwings



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dirty Talk, F/F, Fisting, Leslie Has a Sex Binder, Oral Sex, PWP, Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:46:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingswithwings/pseuds/thingswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leslie has a kind of obvious hatecrush on Jennifer Barkley.  Ann talks her through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obvious

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anoel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anoel/gifts).



> Recently Anoel did me a huge favour, so I tried to come up with something I could get her that she might like, to say thank you. I settled on "fic where Ann dirty talks Leslie through her Jennifer Barkley fantasy" as something that would probably fit the bill. :) Thank you again, buddy! I hope you like this. <3
> 
> NOTE: let's just agree that this is in a canon-divergent AU where Leslie gets with Ann in season 3, instead of with Ben. In my head Ben got with Andy and April instead but whoops I forgot to actually put that in the fiiiiiic

Ann notices right away, of course. It's not like Leslie is any good at keeping her feelings quiet, and what's more, she has a tendency to talk in her sleep. Ann has been Leslie's girlfriend for over a year and her best friend for more than three, so she definitely has an advanced understanding of Leslie-ese, but she's pretty sure, in this case, that everyone in the room is hearing the same thing she is. It's obvious. It's painfully obvious. Painfully, intriguingly obvious.

" . . . _baiting_ me! Asking for it! She wants me to come for her, Ann, that's all there is to it, and I _will_ go to her, follow her down into her sticky, enveloping lair and do battle until she's – "

"Okay," Ann interrupts loudly, glancing around at the others. Ben, Tom, Donna, and April are all wearing the exact same expression: raised eyebrows, wide eyes, their can-you-even-believe-Leslie faces. Ann has a face like it that she uses sometimes, but as the senior Leslie-wrangler in the room, she feels it's her responsibility to step in and be serious while Donna and Tom mouth _oh my god_ s at each other. "Let's stop you there," she says. "That metaphor was getting . . . out of control. Very quickly."

Leslie nods her emphatic agreement, but the feverish light in her eyes tells Ann that she's not really paying attention, still locked in the same headspace.

"Yeah, save it for the bedroom," Tom mutters. Ann shoots him a death glare, and he pouts, but doesn't say anything else. For the life of her, Ann doesn't know how she came to be the Parks Department Behavior Police. She has an idea that she used to be fun. She's pretty sure of it. She knows for sure that she didn't used to be the lesbian mom to a bunch of government workers slash misfits.

"I'm serious," Leslie says, obviously unable to let it go. "I'm angry. And if Jennifer Barkley wants to play hardball then I will play her game all. Day."

Leslie's up and pacing now, back and forth in April, Andy, and Ben's living room, making a sharp, precise corner next to the lawn signs, spinning a neat 180 on her heel at the whiteboard. Ann winces as she starts pacing faster.

" _All_ day," Leslie continues. "All day and all night. And then another day, and then another night, until we're both sweaty, and, and angry, locked in unending combat until the combat _ends_ and I _win_."

This last point is delivered with an oratorical crescendo and a lot of pointing, and then Leslie seems to run out of words, at least for the moment. She keeps pacing, though, faster and faster, tight contained energy.

"Yikers," Ben says. He looks embarrassed.

"Yeah, okay, I think this strategy meeting of the Knope for Pawnee campaign is officially over," Ann says. It's technically Ben's job as campaign manager to call an end to meetings, but when Ann glances at him, he nods vigorous agreement.

"All right, I want each and every one of you brainstorming ways to _take this woman down_ ," Leslie says, in her firm 'rallying the troops' voice, pointing at each of them in turn and making lengthy eye contact. Ann can't help but smile; Leslie is amazing even when she's being wildly inappropriate.

When they get back to Ann's place, Leslie barely lets Ann get her shoes off before she's pressing her up against the wall, kissing her fiercely, pulling desperately and ineffectually at her clothes.

It's hardly the first rough, aggressive foreplay they've had. Leslie – and Ann should've known this, should've predicted it – Leslie is full of sexual energy, bristling and crackling with it, eyes bright with new ideas, new ways to drive Ann wild. In fact, Leslie has a binder that she keeps in the bottom of the nightstand, something like 500 pages thick, full of charts and diagrams and exquisitely embarrassing details on how exactly she likes to drive Ann wild. 

But even without taking into account the note-taking and the graph-making and the surprisingly intense Eleanor Roosevelt/Lorena Hickok erotic roleplay, Ann has still never had a sexual partner like Leslie. Leslie, who loves to go down on Ann forever, or fuck her for hours, who wakes her in the morning with the sweetest, softest kiss and follows it up with vigorous, laughing, tumbling sex that sends Ann right back to sleep again, worn out and panting, even as it seems to energize Leslie even further.

Ann's only just getting used to the pace. And she's increasingly grateful to Chris, who she dated before Leslie, for the exercise program that inadvertently got her in training for this.

Thank god Leslie hates jogging as much as Ann does.

But since the campaign began, Leslie's only gotten hungrier, more desperate, begging and twisting on Ann's fingers, insatiable, shaking through orgasm after orgasm until she finally breaks, exhausted, and sleeps for four hours before waking up again and sneaking out of the bedroom to get more work done.

In part, Ann knows, it's just Leslie's natural heat, the way she burns bright, and burns brighter when focused on a project she cares about. And Leslie cares about few things more than having the chance to work for her people as an elected representative. It's a little weird that running for office is a turn-on for Leslie, but Ann's seen Leslie do plenty of weirder things, and anyway it's sort of cute, in an NC-17 rated way.

Still, Ann can't deny that these hard, rough, almost angry makeout sessions have increased in frequency since Jennifer Barkley's arrival. It was Ann's first clue about Leslie's attraction to her. Or, well, her seventh clue. Ann's first clue was the time, three minutes after meeting Jennifer, when Leslie called her "that majestic two-faced beguiling jerk ladywarrior" and then ate six waffles.

Ann can't say she minds. Not when Leslie is hot and pressed up against her, making quiet, desperate noises in her throat as she kisses Ann's mouth. Ann is really fine with being the happy recipient of Leslie's sublimation of her unconscious desires.

But then, she does have the campaign to think about. And it might go better for everyone if Leslie's desires on this score were . . . a little more conscious.

So she slides one hand around Leslie's waist, down to cup the curve of her hip, and with the other hand, pushes Leslie gently away to break their kiss. 

Leslie blinks at her, sex-drugged the way she sometimes gets sugar-drugged, like she's lost all ability to focus on anything other than what she wants. It's one of the things Ann loves best about her: how much she wants things, and how unashamed she is about it.

"Ann," Leslie says. Her voice is hoarse. "Ann," she says again, like Ann's name is the only word she remembers.

_That's me,_ Ann thinks, not for the first time, but still thrilled by the idea. _That's me she looks at like she looks at candy._ And it's why Ann could never really bring herself to be jealous of some little hatecrush on a passing political advisor. 

Smiling fondly, Ann tucks a strand of Leslie's hair behind her ear. Leslie leans into the touch like a cat. "We've got to do something about this crush of yours," Ann says, leaning in to kiss Leslie's nose.

Leslie frowns. "You mean the huge massive crush I have on you? Because I was _trying_ – " She runs her hands rough over Anne's breasts, down to her waist so that she can tuck her fingers under the waistband of Ann's jeans. Ann sighs as Leslie's hot little fingers play against her skin, dip into her navel. 

"No, I mean the huge massive crush you have on your opponent's campaign manager." 

Leslie's fingers still. Ann keeps her hands steady, resting open palmed against Leslie's hip and sternum.

"Ann." Leslie's eyes are wide with fear and panic. She shakes her head. "No, Ann. No. I promise. No way. Incorrect."

"Are you sure?" Ann asks. She unbuttons Leslie's pants and tugs the zipper down, slipping her hand inside. "Because it's not – really – a problem." Leslie's already wet. She's probably been wet all day, steaming mad at Jennifer's latest power play and desperate for some way to burn all that energy off. Ann's fingers slip inside easily. She strokes along either side of Leslie's clit. 

"Uh," Leslie says, getting her sex-haze look again. "Well."

"Because I think maybe you want to talk about it," Ann says.

"Well," Leslie says again.

Biting her lip, Ann says, "Or – maybe you want me to talk about it? To you?"

Leslie's mouth falls open a little with desire, and her cheeks go red. Leslie likes dirty talk in bed; Leslie, in fact, likes few things more than dirty talk in bed. But it's not something Ann had ever done before, and she finds it difficult, awkward, strange to be saying those things, even just describing the physical things they do together. Leslie doesn't try to push – in this one space, in this one way, she's careful never to push – but Ann can tell from the way she responds to Ann's occasional dirty talk attempts that it's a huge turn-on for her. 

And maybe, like with the roleplay, if Ann concentrates on the fantasy it won't be so hard to do.

"Ann." Leslie's tone is serious. Ann keeps rubbing slowly at her clit, teasing. "Ann," Leslie says again, breathless. "Can I please take off all your clothes and all my clothes and then, yes, I would like that very much, Ann, yes."

Ann laughs, because Leslie's unselfconscious desire is almost always enough to make up for Ann's awkwardness, so they blunder gracelessly to the bedroom together, losing clothes as they go, until Ann has Leslie on the bed and is pulling off her panties and making her naked.

"Everyone can tell, you know," Ann says, the words falling easily out of her mouth. 

"What?" Leslie says, distracted, as she scootches back on her elbows and spreads her legs.

"This thing you have for Jennifer Barkley. Everyone knows."

"Pffft," Leslie says. "That's ridiculous."

Ann licks her lips and crawls forward, leaning over Leslie and putting her hand between Leslie's legs. She finds just where she was when they left off: Leslie's clit round and wet, a perfect slippery pressure under Ann's thumb.

"You say all that stuff about going into her sticky lair and grappling with her sweaty naked body – "

"That's – oh, oh, yes." Leslie breathes for a moment against Ann's slow, teasing touch. "That's an exaggeration."

"Not much of one," Ann says, which is true. She's pretty sure Leslie's used the word _naked_ in reference to their political opposition at least once.

"You embarrassed by me, Ann?" Leslie asks, panting.

Ann feels a hot flush pass over her skin at the idea, because Leslie really is embarrassing sometimes, but Ann . . . likes it. There's something about the way Leslie is embarrassing without ever being embarrassed that makes Ann want to squirm. And maybe, somehow, take on all the embarrassment for both of them. And that might be too complex a discussion to be having during dirty talk sex fantasy games.

"You're so obvious," Ann says instead, as much of an answer as she can give right now. "It's so obvious to everyone that you want Jennifer to, to – " Ann pauses for a second, not sure how far she should go, but beneath her Leslie is nodding encouragement, smiling broadly, her skin soft and bare, her legs open. Ann swallows. "To hold you down and fuck you," she manages. She's proud, too, that she got the words out, because Leslie groans and shimmies against her, like hearing Ann say it out loud is hotter than the idea of it could ever be.

"You know I'd never cheat on you, Ann," Leslie says, breathless, and Ann for the life of her can't tell whether this is meant as serious reassurance or as another building block in their little game. Maybe it's both.

"Maybe I would give you permission," Ann says. She speeds up circling strokes against Leslie's clit, and, sitting up on her knees, slips the fingers of her other hand into Leslie's cunt. She's hot inside, throbbing, already clenching around Ann's fingers; it's not going to take long. "Maybe – " Ann hits on an idea, and the sudden intensity of it is almost overwhelming. Her mouth goes dry, so that she has to swallow and lick her lips before she can speak again. She presses her thighs together against the little shock of pleasure as she says, "maybe I would watch."

"Ann, _yes_ ," Leslie says, in her loud, firm, city-council-candidate voice. Ann bends to kiss her, softly, and pushes a little harder inside Leslie, rubbing her g-spot in the long strokes she likes best.

She lets herself think about it: what Leslie and Jennifer would look like together, how hard and angry and utterly unrestrained their fucking would be.

"I'd like to see that," she whispers into Leslie's mouth. 

Leslie shoves her hips up against Ann's hands, her body trembling gently as she clenches and clenches around Ann's fingers, one long loud groan pulling out of her body as she comes, wet and messy and all over the bed. She's gorgeous, her hair spread in blonde tangles over the pillows, sweat trickling under her breasts, her nipples hard and candy-pink and so pretty that Ann has to suck one as Leslie comes down from her orgasm, just to taste, because she wants nothing more than to take Leslie inside her. She want to take everything that Leslie is inside her body until it's all she can taste, smell, hear.

"Annannannannannannannann," Leslie sighs, her usual post-orgasm litany, and Ann smiles at its familiarity. "Ann," Leslie continues, "I hope you know we're not done."

Ann's eyebrows go up in surprise, but she grins. "No?"

"No." Leslie breathes for a second, then springs into action, grabbing Ann by the shoulders and reversing their positions. She settles down between Ann's legs and kisses her thigh, making Ann shiver just a little.

She sits up on her elbow and runs a hand through Leslie's hair, petting gently.

"How are you going to talk while you're doing that?" she asks. She can't look away from Leslie's mouth, red and wet and open, so close that Ann can feel the heat of her breath against her labia.

Leslie doesn't answer right away, always a sign that something strange is about to happen. When she does speak, she hesitates.

"Will you keep talking?" she asks. "You said – you said you wanted to tell me about it."

Ann brushes Leslie's hair back from her face. "About Jennifer fucking you," she says softly. Leslie closes her eyes.

"About Jennifer fucking – me," she corrects. "About Jennifer fucking me, yeah. Will you keep talking?"

"Sure," Ann says, like it's something they do every day. Maybe it could be. Leslie moves forward and buries her mouth in Ann's cunt, lipping at her softly. "As long as I keep talking, though, you have to keep doing that."

Leslie pulls back, lips shining. "Or," she suggests, "You have to keep talking, or else I'll stop."

There's a little hitch in Ann's breathing, like she forgets for a second how to do it, and then she says, "Yeah. Yeah, okay." Leslie nods slowly. Ann's hand is still in her hair, and she has to remind herself not to clench it into a fist, not to tug Leslie's head back down the way she wants to.

Leslie slides her arms under Ann's thighs, puts her face between Ann's legs, and waits. Ann tries to think of something to say.

"I'm completely drawing a blank," she laughs, embarrassed. When Leslie laughs with her, her mouth tickles against Ann's thigh.

"I think you were at holding me down and fucking me," Leslie prompts. "And – and watching us. God, that was so hot, Ann. Talk about that. Talk about what you'd see."

"Okay," Ann says, and Leslie starts to lick and lap and suck and Ann finds the next word, and then the next. "It'd be, it'd be so beautiful. So glorious." Then she feels dumb, because this is supposed to be sex talk, not strange vague descriptions that could also be given to landscapes. She falls silent for a few seconds, and Leslie pulls back again.

"Keep going," she breathes, and even when Ann doesn't she puts her mouth back on Ann's cunt, her tongue slipping among her folds, as if paying her in advance for the words that Leslie knows she'll say.

"She has that long hair," Ann blurts. "And she'd be on top, like you said, holding you down. Her hair would fall down her back and over her bare shoulders while she, oh, Leslie, while she fucked you."

Leslie lifts her up to improve the angle, her little arms strong enough to put Ann just where she wants her. Her tongue goes deeper inside, and Ann sighs, and squirms, almost forgetting for a moment to keep talking. The images are coming to her fast and vivid: it's almost like she really is seeing the whole scene unfold. Jennifer taking Leslie hard, right here in this bed, while Ann stands back and lets her.

"She's fucking you, but not with a dildo. With her fist." Ann can imagine it, Jennifer's broad palm clenched inside of Leslie's body, her arm sliding inside, Leslie fucked wide open to accommodate her. "She's got her whole arm inside you."

Leslie groans.

She and Leslie have done that exactly four times, with plenty of lube and stretching and preparation, twice for each of them, and it's been amazing, if a little too much work for everyday. But in Ann's fantasy it's something that Jennifer does to Leslie fast and hard, that Leslie takes easily, arches into as she tries to get more.

"That's what you want from her, right?" Ann asks. The pleasure is rising inside of her, expanding to fill the spaces within her, and as she rides that wave the words all come to her in a rush, spilling from her mouth: "You want her to fill you up, don't you? Fill you up and hold you down. Rough. Aggressive. You like how aggressive she is. How competitive she is. She'd, oh, she'd _wring_ your orgasm out of you, again and again and again, just to, to prove that she could do it. Just to, oh, oh, oh – ! . . . to, to show that she knows how to make you scream."

Leslie's mouth is getting sloppy, moving fast and hungry as she eats Ann out. But that's okay, it's okay, because Ann's sinking into the feeling of it, the sensation of Leslie's mouth on her, the image of Leslie spitted and owned by Jennifer, of Leslie coming helplessly around the implacable, uncaring intrusion of Jennifer's hard fist.

She clenches her fist in Leslie's hair, tight, rough, holding her in place. 

Leslie groans and digs her fingers into Ann's ass, fingernails scraping against skin. Her tongue is wet and writhing against Ann's clit as she starts to come, the orgasm slow and heavy inside her, unwinding gradually as Ann unfolds around it. 

"I'd – I'd be watching," she pants. "I'd be watching you, coming and coming against Jennifer's hands, screaming, and I'd – I'd be touching myself, Leslie, god, Leslie, please, please don't stop – "

She arches involuntarily, sliding into the hot rush of sensation as the orgasm pours through her. Leslie keeps sucking and licking all the way through it, making it last, until Ann is wrung out, used up, exhausted and pleasure-drunk, collapsed against the sheets and breathing hard as she finds herself again.

"Ann," Leslie is saying. "Ow, Ann."

Looking up, she sees that her hand is still clutching at Leslie's hair, which is now tangled in the ring Ann is wearing. 

"Oh, oh no Leslie, I'm sorry," Ann says, sincerely, even as she can't help laughing a little at Leslie's position, tilting her head towards Ann's hand to lessen the pull.

They get untangled, eventually, minus a few blonde hairs here and there, and Ann pulls Leslie up for an apologetic kiss. 

She tastes herself on Leslie's mouth, evidence of her own passion and desire passed back to her on Leslie's tongue.

"I'm really sorry," she says, when they part. "I shouldn't have grabbed your hair like that without asking."

"I liked it," Leslie says. "I really liked it. You should do it more often."

Ann blinks at that. "Really?"

Leslie snuggles down against her, burying her nose against Ann's neck. It's just a ruse, Ann knows; in five minutes Leslie will be up again, re-energized and ready to stuff envelopes, or design a new park, or make Ann complicated, beautiful, perfect gifts just because she loves her. Ann basks in the cuddling, knowing that it won't last, loving it while it does. 

"Ann, do you think that Jennifer is the first woman whose skill, professionalism, and composure have driven me to distraction?" Leslie asks, which doesn't quite make sense until Ann engages her Leslie translation powers.

"You mean you'd want that from me, too? That – rough stuff?" This hasn't come up previously via Leslie's sex binder, but Ann won't be surprised if it's in there, a proposal written up in elegant detail, printed in black and white with a bibliography and several sample scenarios, maybe some diagrams. It's good, almost overwhelmingly good, to know that there are so many pages in the binder that they haven't gotten to yet.

Leslie sighs. "One day I'd love you to just wrestle me down to the ground," she confesses easily. "Make me do what you want. You're so beautiful when you're strong and commanding, Ann."

Ann grins and kisses the top of Leslie's head. "We can try to work up to that," she says. She's not sure if it's something she wants, but she can't deny the heat she feels at the idea. Maybe they can do it like this first, just talking about it rather than acting it out.

They lie together in silence for another few minutes, Leslie's restless fingers stroking slowly over Ann's clavicle, Ann's palm spread wide and solid over the small of Leslie's back.

"Is it really that obvious?" Leslie asks, suddenly. Ann laughs.

"It's so, so obvious. Like, it's so obvious that Jerry knows."

"Oh _man_!" Leslie whines.

"You just can't help your deep, instinctual reaction to strong women, I guess," Ann jokes.

Leslie sighs. "You're damn right I can't. But maybe stop me next time, will you?"

Ann kisses her, soft at first and then hard, deep, with Leslie pushing back against her, giving as good as she gets. "Next time I'll have to drag you into a broom cupboard or something, get it out of your system."

Leslie kisses her again. "Mmmm, that's not actually a disincentive." 

They kiss a bit more, and then Leslie pulls away and sits up in bed. "Okay," she says, "okay, I really have to go get some more work done. I have this idea for a trout pond."

"All right," Ann laughs. "Go, work. I'm taking a nap. I'm all fucked out."

Leslie grins as she hops into a pair of sweatpants, then shimmies back into a t-shirt. Her nipples are still hard, showing through the material, and on impulse, Ann gets up onto her knees at the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around Leslie's waist and pulling her close. Opening her mouth, she sucks gently on one of Leslie's nipples, through the t-shirt, letting her teeth scrape through the fabric. When she pulls back she's satisfied to see she's left an obscene wet circle behind, the mark of her mouth.

"God, Ann," Leslie breathes.

"Don't work too long," Ann says. "I'll be rested up soon."

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a cute picture of Eleanor Roosevelt, Franklin D. Roosevelt, and Lorena Hickok hanging out, just chillin in wicker chairs and bein poly together: http://www.history.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/roosevelt-family.jpg . Just in case you ever need reminding that America once had a poly presidency or that Leslie Knope would totally want to roleplay as Eleanor with Ann-as-Lorena and, like, Joe Biden-as-FDR. #leslieknopesexfantasies


End file.
